


marked

by MrsRen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Dirty Talk, F/M, Werewolf Draco, critically injured
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24173527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/MrsRen
Summary: '“Perhaps you missed it over the last nine years, but I’ve cared for only you. It’s worth mentioning as well that I have forced myself not to get too close in case you did find your mate.”His brows drew together. “I did miss that.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 35
Kudos: 560
Collections: You Pick Two





	marked

**Author's Note:**

> Hosted by LadyKenz347 on the Dumbledore's Armada Discord, and won runner up for best use of prompt. <3 Thanks to NuclearNik and MissELY for their help. 
> 
> Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
> 
> Prompt: Creature

Hermione thought watching the curse fly through the air might have been the longest few seconds of her life since the war. What had lasted just three breaths rattled her in the wake of a crack of Apparition, and she dropped to her knees.

He batted her hands away, tried to tell her no. "Gran-ger." Her surname was split in two.

What if she never heard him say it how he always did ever again?

She just needed to _think_. It would be fine.

It had to be.

Draco shook his head. "'S not going to work."

There was a stash of potions in the loo of the flat where they'd set up, but none of them would help her; they hadn't been expecting the object of their stakeout to come to them.

Normally hidden behind his collar, she could see the bite mark on his shoulder as he shifted. "Do you know who your mate is?"

Draco's head met the floor when he sighed, a pitiful resigned sound, and he nodded. "I do."

"Tell me who she is."

"Absolutely fucking not." Typical. He was still stubborn even when he was critically injured. Even when the possibility of him dying truly wasn't an improbability. "Even if I told you—" Malfoy broke off, strands of blond hair sticking to his already sweaty forehead, and forced himself to swallow. "I don't need anyone to be a martyr for me."

 _Out of all the times to be noble_.

He must have been floating in and out of consciousness because that was the only reason the words, "Especially not you," could have slipped past his lips.

She froze.

Time might have stood still as Hermione's eyes met his. "What did you just say?"

A swear left his lips, muttered and grumbled as his fingers dug into the carpet beneath him. "Eight years of keeping that from you," Draco sighed. If he'd had the strength, he probably would have run his fingers through his hair.

It was something he did often, something she'd imagined doing herself, over and over again.

" _Eight?"_ Surely she hadn't heard him correctly.

They'd been Auror partners for nine years. He'd been attacked by a werewolf a year into their partnership and the guilt had very nearly crushed her, even then.

"If you had known," Draco continued, his face draining of colour even further while she kept her hands locked tightly over the wound. "You would have taken pity on me due to your own guilt."

_My fault, my fault, my fault._

Laying his hand over hers, blood smeared across it, the weak smile he gave her caused her stomach to turn over. "I don't want you to take pity on me now either, Granger."

Help wasn't coming, she knew. Perhaps if she had been quicker, if she hadn't panicked, there might have been a chance to rush him to St Mungo's, however slim. Instead, she'd latched on to the bit of werewolf lore she did know—information she had searched for after Malfoy's attack.

Mating would heal him.

"It's not pity, you insufferable prick," she whispered. Hermione sat on her knees, and knelt over him, lowering her head. "Perhaps you missed it over the last nine years, but I've cared for only _you_. It's worth mentioning as well that I have forced myself not to get too close in case you _did_ find your mate."

His brows drew together. "I did miss that."

Her laugh was a wheeze at best and it cut off abruptly when his fingers flexed over hers. "I should have sent for St Mungos." She forced the words out, ignoring the way the useless organ in her chest squeezed. "But I didn't, and you're going to lose consciousness at any moment… So, we're only left with one option."

"You don't have a _choice_."

"I do." Hermione tilted her head up. "My choice has already been made for some time, even, and if you kill yourself for something as ridiculous as this, I will never forgive you."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Are you aware of how werewolves claim their mate?"

"Well, I've read what information is available, but there wasn't much to read."

"Of course you have. You're an absolute swot." Another swallow. This time he cast his eyes to the ceiling when he did. "I'd mark you," came the rumbling explanation, low and ragged from his chest. Draco's hand slipped between her legs, and he gave a smug grin when her lips parted, a weak gasp pushing past them.

He allowed his palm to skim the inside of her legs, inching slowly up until it rested just before the apex of her thighs.

She did nothing to prevent the way she pressed forward, desperate for him to move just a bit _farther_.

"Right here," he rasped. "Right _here._ " Fingers curled into her flesh through her uniform.

She must have barely registered the words because he said it again, all at once that time.

" _I'd mark you right here, Granger."_

A shallow breath bubbled up, and even she didn't realize she'd whimpered until she had.

Until she'd leaned into him again, her legs closing tightly, and he smiled.

His hand shifted and his fingers were against her, two fingers rubbing in slow circles. "I'd take my time to strip you, to press my lips against every inch of these legs that have tortured me for fucking _years_."

Hermione couldn't breathe, but she let him guide her down to the floor even though he shouldn't move so freely.

She let him rest in the cradle of her thighs.

He hovered over her, hands planted on the floor on either side of her head. "I'd taste you on my tongue, and wait for your pussy to tighten around my fingers to take you. I've dreamt of this, you see."

" _Please."_

Hermione pushed her hips against his and took the sounding growl that came as a victory before taking his promise that she'd feel him for weeks.


End file.
